One More Time
by lovemondotrasho
Summary: Even though their married life was over and things would most likely never go back to being the way they were, Hungary couldn't deny that she missed certain things that Austria would do for her. Complete for now - may expand on this later. Slight AusHun.


**Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Or single people awareness day... I'm (sadly) celebrating the second one... But I decided to get into the spirit long enough to write this AusHun oneshot! Hope you all enjoy it! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia: Axis Powers. If I did, I highly doubt I would be single. **

* * *

Hungary pushed the sleeves of her signature light green dress up and started on the laundry. She measured out the detergent and pulled the basket of dirty clothes closer to her, so she could separate the darks from the lights. When she started separating the clothes, she noticed that a majority of the clothes belonged to Italy - she was able to tell from the various pasta stains. She began loading the washing machine with clothes until she picked up a pastel-green colored dress. The dress triggered a memory from the week before. She smiled at what had happened on that day.

* * *

_Hungary was with Austria in his bedroom. Austria was sitting in front of his piano, playing away. A beautiful melody filled the air. A smile was on her face as he played. She let the music take away every emotion she had, slowly closing her eyes._

_Suddenly, Austria stopped playing and a new sound reached Hungary's ears. She opened her eyes to see her ex-husband's dark hair swish slightly as he looked up in shock._

_"Hey hey papa, can I have some wine? Hey hey mama. Hey hey mama..."_

_The pair made their way down the hall and toward the source of the high-pitched noise. Austria opened the doors, standing in the door frame in shock. Hungary stood with Austria, looking confused. Austria's mouth dropped open, as did Hungary's when they realized Italy was singing._

_Italy kept singing as if nothing had happened. Austria continued to stare at his servant. He was going to ask Hungary what was going on when Italy's high-pitched singing voice changed drastically into a deeper, more masculine sounding voice._

_Austria gasped, not being able to comprehend what had just happened. Italy stopped for a moment, also a bit confused. However, he quickly brushed it off. He smiled and began singing again._

_"Hetaliaaaaaa!" he finished in with his new tenor._

_He had a strange feeling that he was being watched. He turned around and spotted Austria and Hungary. He raced toward Hungary, clearly pleased with this new change. "Cool! My voice is changing! I sound like a boy!"_

_Austria was completely taken aback by what Italy had said. He made to ask Hungary what was going on when he was interrupted again._

_"Good for you!" exclaimed his ex-wife. "Wonderful!"_

_The dark-haired pianist meekly watched as his servants gushed about this new change. He was completely blown away by what had happened. As long as he could remember, Italy had always worn a dress and had a very high-pitched voice. There were moments where Austria questioned the way Hungary spoke to Italy. Sometimes she was a bit gruff with him when he got hurt. Never before did Austria think that Italy was actually a boy. _

* * *

Hungary smiled lovingly at the old dresses that Austria insisted be tossed in the rubbish bin. These were a big part of her life with Italy. She thought of Italy as her own son. She couldn't just throw away the clothes her son had worn. In the end, she decided to snip a piece of fabric off of each dress, so she could have at least a part of Italy's childhood with her.

She tucked the bits of fabric in her apron and turned around to toss the dresses in the rubbish bin. She turned back to the laundry and tossed Italy's new shirts and trousers in the soapy water. She absently started to toss clothes into the washer. She was about to toss a navy blue coat into the machine with the other clothes when she realized what color it was and who it belonged to. The jacket belonged to none other than Austria.

Hungary held the jacket in both hands, wearing a nostalgic smile and admiring the small needlework along the collar of the coat. She ran her fingers along the front of the coat, swirling her finger around each button.

Snippets of memories of her married life with Austria came to mind. Waking up next to Austria in their bedroom was one of the happiest moments of her life. She always loved to see him stir in his sleep and eventually sit up while rubbing his bleary violet eyes. He would turn to her and try to tame his messy brown hair while fumbling for his glasses so he could see her better.

Another moment that she loved and looked forward to was when he would sit in his room and play piano melodies. It was always around sunset when he sat with his music. She would join him on the bench sometimes or simply watch from behind. When she sat with him, her olivine eyes would be fixed on his slender fingers that hit the milky keys. She would occasionally glance up at him to see a small smile on his face - a smile that was only reserved for her.

Hungary looked down at the coat in her hands for a moment. Her eyebrows knit together as a thought came to mind. She dropped the coat in the laundry basket and marched out of the room. She made her way down the hall and up the stairs until she was in front of Austria's bedroom door. She gently knocked on it.

"Come in," said a deep masculine voice.

She pushed the rustic doors open, revealing a relatively tidy room. Almost nothing was out of place. The only exception was his underwear, which was scattered about the room. She covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. Austria might have been a tidy man, but he was far from being orderly.

Hungary saw Austria sitting at his desk with various pieces of paper in front of him. She cautiously walked forward, not wanting to break his concentration, but at the same time wanting him to notice her. It took a few minutes, but he eventually lost his focus and looked up at her. His violet irises seemed to lock with her emerald ones for a moment. He coughed lightly and blinked.

"Hungary, is something wrong?"

She stared at him for a moment before taking a deep breath. "No, nothing is wrong."

He looked confused. He began to return to his paperwork. "Then I will be getting back to my work..."

"Austria, would you play the piano for me? Like you did when we were married?" asked Hungary, not at all abashed.

Austria glanced up at her through his glasses. A light blush tinged his cheeks. He coughed lightly again and fumbled for his papers. "L-like I used to?" he asked softly.

She nodded with a smile. Her eyes were shining brightly. "You would play the most exquisite melodies I had ever heard."

He stared at her for a moment before giving in. He rose, straightening his signature navy blue coat. He strode toward his beloved piano and sat down. Hungary sat beside him, waiting with a smile on her face.

Austria gazed at the keys for a moment and then placed his fingers on them. Almost immediately, Hungary felt like she was back to her married life. She smiled to herself when the keys blended together to form a piece as sweet as honey.

She glanced up at Austria, her olivine eyes containing nothing but admiration for the brunette. Her eyes flicked down to his hands, which were moving fluidly as if playing the piano was second nature.

As he was playing, the ends of his lips twitched as if he was fighting the urge to smile. He fell back into his old habit of playing the piano for her. He began to lose himself in both the music and her. He watched as the smile on her face grew and her eyes soften. They seemed to contain love for him.

Austria instantly pushed the thought out of his mind. The divorce wasn't amicable at all, but he couldn't deny that he missed being married to Hungary.

He found himself slowing down. He quickly put a sloppy ending together so she wouldn't think anything of his wavering attention. When the music stopped, he saw that she sighed happily while rising.

"Thank you, Austria," she said kindly. "I missed hearing you play like that."

Austria hoped he wasn't blushing. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, trying to find something else to look at. "You can always ask."

Hungary smoothed the skirt of her dress out, smiling. "I'll hold you to it," she said with a gleam in her eyes and a grin on her face.

She walked out of Austria's room and slowly closed the doors behind her. Austria stared at the closed door for a moment. He stood up and walked back to his desk. Instead of returning to his paperwork, he opened his desk and picked up a slender framed picture. He smiled nostalgically at the picture and tucked it away. His fingers curled around the ballpoint pen with one thought on his mind.

_'Hungary looks nice in white.'_

* * *

نهاية


End file.
